Little Things
by LeadedCactus83
Summary: Hawke loses her mother, and blames a confused Anders. It takes hinting from Isabela before he realizes that he failed Hawke in a not-so-obvious way. My first story. Not completely to cannon. Fixed the poor section separation, so it should be easier to read.


_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This is a story that was written for fun, and not for profit of any kind. All rights belong to Bioware and EA. I am not responsible for any underage patron reading this material that has been deemed unsuitable for children.

_**WARNING:**_ There is implied sex, nudity, swearing, gambling, and alcohol abuse. Viewers, read at your own risk.

**Author's Note:** This is my first story I submitted to this site. If anyone feels like reviewing, go ahead. While I don't mind positive criticism, outright insults will not be tolerated. I took a few artistic liberties as I was writing because there are a few ambiguous situations that I had no information on. This story is not completely to cannon.

Having said all that, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Anders strolled into the Hanged Man as he always did on a Thursday night. It was card night, and he was eager to try and win back all the coin he had lost last week, providing Isabella or Varric wouldn't be cheating. He had a successful week at his clinic; templars hadn't come snooping around, his patients had lesser injuries, and there had been two births without complications. Anders was feeling good, and very lucky.

He wasn't prepared at all for the situation he encountered.

The Hanged Man had an eerie feeling to it, which sent a shiver down Anders' spine the second he stepped over the threshold. There was a severe lack of patrons in the common room, besides the usual drunks who never left, but even they were huddled in corners. Only the clatter of tankards on the tables and the footsteps of Norah broke the silence that had taken the tavern prisoner.

Anders glanced around. There was a broken table by the stairs leading to Varric's private room. He saw Isabela at her usual spot at the bar, looking furious, and nursing what appeared to be a black eye and very bloody lip. She noticed him, and beckoned him over. When he was close enough, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him nose to nose with her.

"Don't go up there." Isabela murmured, "Trust me when I say this, but you really need to turn around and get out. Now." She hissed the last word like she had been burned. She pushed him towards the door.

Anders was going to yell at her, but a loud smattering of footsteps came from the stairs. Isabela gave an almost worried look at him before Niah Hawke came stumbling towards the bar. She was clearly drunk. Her bright red curls were a tangle, she had a cut on her beautiful face that hadn't been washed, and she was still wearing her bloodstained armor. She had her great sword in her hand and brought the blade down on the nearest table, splitting it in two.

"What…" Hawke hiccupped, "What does a broad have to do to getta drink around here?" She turned on Corff, who was trembling behind the bar. "I thought… I told you to keep the booze flowing!" She pulled her sword from the wreckage of the table. "Or do I need to keep smashing your shit!?" Hawke was raging by the time she was finished speaking.

All the commotion had attracted the attention of everyone upstairs. Fenris, Aveline, Varric, and Merrill soon appeared, with a hand on their weapons.

For the first time, Anders was scared of Hawke. She had been irritated, annoyed, angry, and even furious, but this went beyond anything that he had ever seen. He was thankful she hadn't noticed him, but the others had. Varric was shaking his head, and Aveline kept nodding towards the door.

Corff poured whiskey into a tankard until it was brimming. Hawke wrenched it from his hand and drank deep. She slammed it back onto bar, and leaned towards him. "Now… you keep this thing full." Hawke dangled the empty tankard in Corff's face, as he swallowed, nervously. "Make sure that little tart," she motioned to Norah, who was paralyzed in mid-step, "comes up those fucking stairs, and does her job, or I will have to come down again." Hawke glared at Norah, "unless she thinks she doesn't need to serve me."

"Hawke," Isabela placed a hand on the warrior's shoulder, "I told Norah to stop serving you. I think you've had enough for one night." She glanced back at the others. "We all think you need to go home."

Isabela had a strange effect on Hawke. From the moment the two women had met, they had gotten along famously. They were practically inseparable. They had even slept together at one point, when they had been kicked out of the Blooming Rose because they forgot their coin pouches. Even that hadn't changed their friendship. "It's just sex," they had both said, and they went on, no different than before.

But even Isabela couldn't calm Hawke tonight.

Hawke threw Isabela's hand off her. She turned towards the group. "So… all of you want me to leave? I don't get any support from my so-called friends?" Hawke raised her arms. "Can't I grieve?"

Anders suddenly remembered he had a voice. "Hawke…" Everyone looked at him with wide eyes. "What happened?"

"Blondie, no." Varric warned.

Hawke slowly turned around. Her brown eyes looked almost black in the dim light of the tavern. "And where... have you been?" The scowl her face wore had turned into a snarl. "Off saving some poor little mageling who couldn't protect themselves? Yes, Maker forbid that any mage in this foul city should feel any pain or suffering because they are all **so** innocent!" Her mocking words were meant to annoy Anders, and it was working. "I guess the needs of faceless mages are much more important than the needs of friends. Hell, even faceless **normal** people who aren't cursed with magic are more important! Well, fuck your patients, Anders! And fuck all mages who plague this city! Fuck you!"

Hawke raised her sword again, and began to stumble towards Anders. He made to grab his staff, but before he could, Merrill had already cast Petrify, and Aveline and Fenris had tackled Hawke, trying to wrestle her weapon away. Varric began to usher the other patrons upstairs, away from the battle.

Anders watched the mayhem as Hawke screamed profanities and struggled as best she could, being under a spell and extremely intoxicated. He didn't even notice Isabela behind him, until he grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the Hanged Man.

"I told you to leave," She shoved him for the second time, "but no, you just had to stay and make a bad situation worse!" Her voice echoed off the empty streets of Lowtown. "Andraste's granny panties, Anders! Why couldn't you have left?" She glowered at him, with arms crossed.

"Why are you mad at me? I don't even know why Hawke is upset!" He shouted back at her. "I'm guessing it had something to do with why she came by this afternoon." Anders had a few volunteers who would look out for templars or would take messages for him while he was seeing a patient. He had been setting a broken arm when one of the assistants had told him Hawke was there and needed his help immediately. He had sent a message back that unless it was a medical emergency, he was too busy and couldn't leave. There were three patients who needed to see him afterwards. Apparently, Hawke had left immediately after she had received the message. She was in quite a hurry, according to the deliverer.

"Yes, it was." Isabela began walking away from the Hanged Man, and Anders was forced to follow, wanting answers. "You remember the series of murders that Ser Emeric was following?"

They walked around Lowtown as Isabela told Anders the grisly story of Leandra's death. At the end, Anders was still confused. "But… why is Hawke so mad at me? I can understand her being angry because of the necromancy, and I don't blame her. That kind of magic is completely wrong and those kinds of mages are a danger, like blood mages…"

Isabela cut him off, "Because you weren't there to heal her mother." She stopped walking, facing him, "Hawke thought that if the murderer had done anything to Leandra, she would need healing, but you insisted that you were too busy. Since time was of the essence, Hawke decided that arguing with you would waste precious moments. So she got Merrill, even though her healing abilities are nothing compared to yours. But with things how they were with that crazy mage, Merrill said there wasn't anything that could have save Leandra."

"Then my not being there made no difference at all. Hawke is being ridiculous." Anders crossed his arms. Why was that enticing woman so frustrating?

Isabella sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Hawke needed your help today, more than ever, and you weren't there. Maybe she knew that Leandra was doomed, but she wanted you with her. Something tells me that it wouldn't have mattered if you were a healer or not."

Suddenly, reality smacked Anders in the face. Hawke didn't agree with him as far as mages and templars went, but there was more than that. She went everywhere with him and warned him when templars were around. She had given him gifts that had more than casual thought to them, and had seen to his every physical need, even before she recovered her family's wealth. Hawke even helped him with Karl and Ser Alrik. She never hesitated once to kill templars, the people she sided with, so long as Anders had asked her to do it.

Anders sighed, feeling more stupid than he ever had before. While he had feelings of what he thought were merely lust (she was a beautiful woman after all,) he hadn't thought that all she had done for him might have been out of genuine feelings for him. The thought had never crossed his mind, what with her hatred of magic being so obvious. His face fell into his hands.

"You finally caught on, then? Varric owes me ten sovereigns." Isabella was nothing if not cheeky.

The sky had begun to turn orange, signaling the start of the day. "Anders, take some time, and if you're feeling up to it, go visit Hawke later. We'll see to it she stays at home, and possibly sober." The saucy pirate turned to leave.

"Wait, what happened to your face?"

Isabella looked angry again. "Let's just say that taking Hawke's drink away when she's angry will end badly for you." And with that, she began to make her way back to the Hanged Man.

Anders started back to Darktown, pondering everything that had happened that night, and wondering what to do.

* * *

The Amell Estate was quiet, but Anders was still wary. It had been a couple days, and it seemed like Hawke had relaxed a bit, according to Isabella and Varric. She was still angry with Aveline, Merrill and Fenris for attacking her, so they hadn't come by, but things seemed to be improving.

When Anders entered the main room, he saw Bodahn was in his usual place, and Sandal was fiddling with something, but the whole feeling of the house was empty. Bodahn and Sandal had loved Leandra very much, and her loss was clearly felt.

"Good day to you messere," Bodahn gave a small bow, "I trust you're here to see Serah Hawke? She could really use the company."

"I cry at night." Sandal rubbed at his eyes. They were bloodshot.

"That's okay, my boy. We all have cried a bit. Serah Hawke most of all." Bodahn's gaze fell to the floor. "Lady Leandra will be sorely missed."

Anders felt his heart sink. Hawke was known for her tough exterior. Any other emotion than anger or sarcasm didn't show through. If she was so truly broken that she was crying, he had to do something to help.

Anders mustered all of his courage and resolve, and made his way up the stairs. He thought of his self-reflection in the past couple days. He had a debate with himself, and Justice, but he had come to the solid conclusion, that, for all her faults, for her hatred of magic, for her incorrigible nature, love of whores and drink, Hawke had come to mean a lot to him. He wasn't sure it was love, not yet, but it was more than friendship or rivalry. He needed to figure out whatever was between them.

Anders entered the room as quietly as he could, closing the door behind him. It smelled of sweat and booze. The curtains on the four-posted bed were drawn, and there was a trail of bottles leading to one side. _'So much for keeping her sober.'_

"Hawke?" Anders said softly, as he made his way towards the bed, avoiding the bottles. "Niah, I wanted to see how you were doing." He reached the side of the bed, and pulled the curtain back. A pair of bloodshot brown eyes met his golden ones, and they were angry.

She sat up and wiped her face, but that couldn't hide her tear stained cheeks and her trembling bottom lip. "Don't you know how to knock?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Sorry." Suddenly, Anders was at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but now that he was here, nothing was coming to mind. He felt the heat rush to his face. He had to say something to break the awful silence that had settled around them. She kept staring at him and he at her.

"Why are you here?" She demanded. Anders swallowed, took a deep breath and began.

"I came to apologize. If I had known how much you had need of me, I would have gone along. I don't know how much I could have done for your mother, but… I still could have been there for you." Anders chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, waiting for her to say something.

Hawke stood up and grabbed him by the collar. "And what makes you think that I would have wanted you there at all?" Her words dripped with venom.

"Because… I thought about it, and…" Anders placed his hands on hers. "I think you've wanted me beside you for years. But I'm… kind of a moron, and I just caught on."

Hawke shook her head as a fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks. She released his collar, and slapped him. "You are a moron." She grabbed his jaw to make him face her. "Are you going to be here now?"

Anders nodded, his cheek throbbing. "For as long as you need me."

Hawke released his jaw, threw her arms around him, and kissed him. He began to return her kiss, and she pulled him onto the bed.

* * *

Anders lay in bed while Hawke took a bath. They had spent the last few days together, in which he had learned more about her then he had in the past four years. She said felt guilty about her mother's death, and no one else's in her family. "They were all unpreventable. My father died disease, Carver died in battle and Bethany of the Blight. Those aren't things I could have stopped, but… if I had pursued the necromancer more fervently, I might have caught him before he got to Mother. Hell, if I had been home when she got the lilies, I would have gone in her stead and torn that fucker a new asshole." She had shaken her head. "It bothers me that I couldn't do more."

After their first night together, Anders had convinced her to bathe, eat, and even cut back on her grief drinking. After the third night, she went to their friends to apologize for how she acted. Hawke even stopped by the Hanged Man and paid for the damages.

It was the morning of the fifth day that Anders learned to hear what Hawke didn't say. He awoke to find her watching him. The look in her eyes said everything her mouth couldn't. "Do you want breakfast?" _**'Thank you for staying with me.'**_

He thought back to all their conversations and saw her true meanings.

"Your mage rebellion is stupid." '_**You could get hurt, or die.'**_

"Just spit it out." _**'Tell me what's wrong.'**_

"What's your problem?" _**'Maybe I can help.'**_

She had her own way of saying things, backwards as they were, and Anders realized she didn't know how else to express her thoughts. He was almost embarrassed he hadn't worked it out sooner.

By the sixth night, Anders knew that he loved her. He walked into the kitchen where Hawke was fixing something to eat. He smiled when he heard her humming softly to herself. He hugged her from behind, and she relaxed into him. He brought his lips next to her ear and whispered his confession. "I love you."

She twisted in his embrace to face him. "Do you want a sandwich?" All Anders heard was '_**I love you, too.'**_

Hawke had come back from her bath while he recollected, and crawled into bed with him, still naked and damp. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, contented. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, wondering what would happen for them in the future.

It had been two months, and Anders had moved in with Hawke. She had even gone so far as to give him a key to the Darktown door leading to the wine cellar for quick escapes from templars. Her excuse was, "Someone's got to look out for you." _**'I don't want them to take you from me.'**_

They still disagreed on mages' freedom and templar oppression, but Anders had looked past that and noticed the subtle things that only he could see of Hawke. After all, the little things can have greater meaning, even if it was something as small as a sandwich.


End file.
